


better than a dream

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bitty and Jack ended up in the same bed and one time they didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better than a dream

**1.**

Rain is pattering against the window and it should be soothing. It’s not a storm, no thunder, no lightning, just gentle pitter-patter on Bitty’s windowpane. It’s the kind of rain that eventually becomes background noise that makes the world seem much louder and much softer at the same time, but tonight it’s keeping Bitty awake. Every single raindrop has made it its mission to deprive him of much-needed sleep. Every single raindrop keeps him awake long enough for him to conjure up another ridiculous thought.

He already declared today’s fickle weather his personal nemesis earlier that day. A conveniently-timed rain shower had several Haus inhabitants stumbling into the kitchen, all panting, drenched, and leaving muddy footprints on the floor, ogling the pie that Bitty put on the counter roughly thirty seconds before their arrival.

Bitty didn’t care that the pie was gone within another thirty seconds. Approximately. That’s what the pie was there for anyway. He can’t say that he paid attention to what happened to it exactly. What he did pay attention to was Jack Zimmermann, also panting, drenched, and leaving muddy footprints on the floor, tugging at his white shirt. His _drenched_ white shirt. So drenched that it was see-through. Bitty would like to say that it didn’t affect him at all, but, truth be told, it affected him 100 percent. Maybe even 110 percent.

Actually, it is still affecting him. The image just won’t let him go. Or he won’t let the image go. He doesn’t want to get philosophical about this in the middle of the night. This is not the time. This afternoon wasn’t the time either, but Jack Zimmermann and his see-through shirt were impossibly hard to ignore.

Hence Bitty’s recently developed aversion against intermittent rain showers.

Now every little raindrop that comes splashing against his window reminds him of it. Of Jack. And his shirt. Drenched. Clinging to his body.

“This is ridiculous,” Bitty whispers into his dark room. It is. He’s seen Jack shirtless so many times that he’s lost count. This shouldn’t be an issue. Except that it is.

He needs to think of something else. Really, anything else. He could bake something tomorrow. Pie. Or something more challenging. Something that’ll need his full attention. Something that won’t leave any time for him to think about Jack. Not Jack’s eyes, or Jack’s hair, or the little sheepish smile that darted over Jack’s face when he pulled at his wet shirt earlier.

Bitty smacks his hand on his face. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the smile might have been directed at him.

But he does know better. He does, for the love of God.

He rolls onto his stomach and pulls his pillow over his head to block out the sound of the rain, but the image of Jack is still there and it’s not going anywhere. This is going to be the death of him. Jack Zimmermann will kill him.

Bitty screws his eyes shut and breathes. Lying there with his face smushed into his pillow and with Señor Bunny’s foot poking into his eye is, in the end, slightly counterproductive. His _brain_ is slightly counterproductive.

“Lord,” Bitty mutters and ends up with a mouthful of pillow.

That’s it.

He’s done now. He’s done with the rain and with not sleeping and, most of all, he’s done thinking about Jack.

Bitty clambers out of bed and sneaks to the bathroom, mainly because he feels like he can’t lie still for a second longer. The Haus is eerily quiet. It almost feels wrong that it’s this quiet. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights; the one closest to his room is broken anyway. Something creaks softly as Bitty shuffles back to his room, his eyes on the floor. That soft creak, Bitty realizes too late, was the creak of door hinges.

Jack’s door hinges tried to warn him, but did he listen? No, of course he didn’t. Which is why he barrels right into Jack, who lets out a quiet huff that’s more surprised than it is annoyed. He grabs Bitty’s upper arms to steady him. “Bittle?”

He’s face to face with– Well, he’s looking straight at Jack’s chest, thankfully clad in an old gray shirt. This isn’t helping.

“Jack, sorry… I’m sorry… I was just, y’know… and then I–” Bitty snaps his mouth shut. No more talking for him. He takes a step back and Jack lets go of his arms. Bitty feels like part of him is on fire. The parts of him that Jack just touched, mostly. His face, too. Gosh, he probably has it written all over his face. That he thought about Jack. And his shirt. And– He takes another step back, just for good measure.

Jack is looking down at him, brow furrowed. There’s something weary about him, and an alertness that tells Bitty that Jack hasn’t slept yet either.

“You okay?” Bitty asks. Jack doesn’t look okay. Bitty is by no means an expert when it comes to Jack and his okay-ness, but he doesn’t like the look on his face. Like he can’t bear going to sleep when, at the same time, he’s so exhausted that he can barely keep himself upright.

“I just can’t sleep,” Jack says and shrugs, as if to say, _nothing new there_.

Bitty wants to take his hand. Or give him a hug. Or make him some really nice hot chocolate and– This is also not helping. And now he’s staring at Jack in the hallway and his feet are cold and it’s the middle of the night and he doesn’t know why he nods at his door and says, “Do you want to…?” He trails off into nothing because he’s not even sure what he’s asking. _Do you want to hang out for a bit?_ In the middle of the night. Because that’ll surely help with the not-sleeping.

Bitty really doesn’t understand why Jack actually follows him into his room instead of telling him to go the hell to sleep because they have practice tomorrow. Jack sits down on his bed – the sheets are everywhere and Señor Bunny is _right there_ – and Jack looks like he belongs there and nowhere else in the world.

Bitty pushes the door shut and then just stands next to his bed because he still hasn’t managed to wrap his head around what’s going on here.

It takes Jack only a moment to pick up on his confusion. He says, “Sometimes I…” He sucks in a deep breath and there’s something shaky about it. “It’s… I’m–”

“You don’t have to explain,” Bitty says, because he doesn’t _need_ an explanation and Jack is obviously shaken up about something. Sometimes it’s easier when you don’t say anything. Bitty isn’t a stranger to that.

Jack lets out a sigh, like he’s relieved that Bitty is offering him an easy way out.

Legs tucked against his chest, Bitty sits down next to him. Jack Zimmermann is in his bed. Which is, incidentally, not helping either.

The rain is still pattering against the windowpane, stronger now, or maybe it just sounds louder than before in the wake of their silence. Not that Bitty feels like he should be saying anything. Jack is quiet next to him, but it’s the good kind of quiet, the kind that isn’t awkward and doesn’t feel like it’ll become unbearable if it isn’t filled with words.

This is fine.

Or, Bitty should say, it’s fine until Jack sees Señor Bunny. He’s a bit surprised that it took him so long because he’s right there between them. Bitty wouldn’t know what a heart attack feels like, but whatever his heart is doing right now is most definitely not healthy.

Jack Zimmermann is going to kill him, but it won’t be because of the shirt after all. Because Jack doesn’t stop there. Looking at Señor Bunny and chirping Bitty into next year apparently isn’t enough. Nope.

Jack picks him up, which results in some indignant squawking on Bitty’s part. Jack, of course, is undeterred and absent-mindedly runs his ringers along the edges of Señor Bunny’s ears.

And that’s it.

Neither of them is saying a word. Bitty isn’t sure if he remembers how to breathe properly. Maybe the regular rules don’t apply tonight. Maybe, when Jack goes back to his room, neither of them is going to mention this ever again. They’re not going to mention that Jack sat slumped on Bitty’s bed in the middle of the night because he couldn’t sleep and they’re not going to mention Señor Bunny. Ever.

Bitty could certainly live with that.

But he certainly can’t live with the fact that Jack is in his bed. Or with the fact that his eyes are drooping. And. Bitty knows what it looks like when someone is falling asleep. He’s watched Coach fall asleep in front of the TV for eighteen years. Roughly. Jack, asleep in his bed, it’s just too much. It’s a whole new level of mortification.

And now that Jack’s eyes have fluttered shut he wouldn’t even notice if Bitty looked at him. At his eyelashes. And at the curve of his lips.

Bitty closes his eyes. He won’t be able to sleep. Not as long as Jack is squeezed into this incredibly tiny bed with him. But he can’t look at him either. That would be some nice self-inflicted torture right there.

So Bitty concentrates on keeping his eyes shut and scoots down a bit and listens to the rain. He doesn’t mind the rain so much anymore, because now at least he has something to focus on. Ironically, it’s the pitter-patter against the window that eventually lulls him to sleep while he’s trying his hardest not to think of anything at all.

When he wakes up a few hours later, his alarm is ringing and he’s alone in his bed. Señor Bunny is sitting next to him on the pillow.

Bitty runs into Jack down in the kitchen. They share a look that lasts a few seconds too long to be a fleeting glance, but they don’t talk about it. Really, some silences don’t need to be filled with words. 

 

**2.**

Bitty is stumbling up the stairs, clinging to the banister for dear life. Why is he going upstairs? He knew five seconds ago. He has a cup in his hand, and it’s nearly empty, which is probably why his head feels all fuzzy.

He was going to lie down, wasn’t he? Well, if that wasn’t the plan, it’s Bitty’s plan now, because the world is swaying, or it’s him who’s swaying, in any case, he wants the swaying to stop and he’s made it all the way up the stairs, which is great, really, a grand achievement, now he just needs to make it to his room. Music and laughter followed him up the stairs. His head is pounding a little.

Bitty ambles down the hall, the beer in his cup swishing. The fingers of his other hand trail along the wall because he’s not steady enough on his own. Which is how he ends up nearly stumbling through Jack’s open door. Because the wall ends all of a sudden. Except it isn’t really that sudden.

Clutching the frame of the door, Bitty says, “Hi,” instead of just turning around and going to his own room like he was planning to.

Jack looks up. He’s sitting on his bed and he’s reading something for one of his classes, or at least the book in his lap doesn’t exactly scream _pleasure read_. “Hi,” Jack says and Bitty is a goner. It’s awfully embarrassing. His face is most likely as red as the cup he’s holding. Scratch the _most likely_ , it totally is.

A smile flits over Jack’s face and Bitty hates it so much when that happens. He hates _that_ smile especially, because that one was for him. It was for him, for Bitty, leaning in Jack’s doorway, unable to move because he’s sure he’ll fall over if he tries. That smile was for his tomato-red face, and maybe it was also for his left shoe that has come untied somewhere on his way up the stairs. Jack shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that, not at him, not at anyone.

There’s fondness in that smile and Bitty can’t stand it.

“I’m going to bed,” Bitty says, except he still hasn’t figured out how to move without face-planting right in front of Jack. He’ll give himself a second to figure that out.

Except Jack says, “Everything okay, Bittle?” and then Bitty isn’t figuring out anything, because Jack won’t stop looking at him and it’s distracting.

“’m fine,” Bitty says. “Just a bit woozy.” And it seems that his arm is now fused to Jack’s doorway.

“Do you want to sit down?” Jack asks and he has already stood up and is gently pushing Bitty over to his bed.

Sitting down is a great idea, actually.

The red cup is gone all of a sudden and then Jack hands him a glass of water and tells him to stay hydrated with another one of those smiles that looks like he’s making fun of him, but there’s still that fondness that Bitty absolutely cannot deal with right now.

Still, he gulps down the water and curls up on his side because lying down seems like an even better idea than sitting down now. His back bumps against Jack’s legs. “I’m leaving in a minute,” he says, because obviously he can’t stay here. This isn’t his room and this isn’t his bed. He just wants to close his eyes for a second.

Jack makes a noncommittal noise like he doesn’t care either way, and then there’s the sound of a page being turned. Music is still drifting up through the ceiling, but Bitty barely hears it anymore. It’s not long until another page turns, and then the drowsiness gets the better of him.

He startles awake to the sound of someone muttering right next to him. Bitty blinks. He’s in Jack’s room. The lights are still on, but it’s quiet. It’s the 3 AM sort of quiet. The music’s gone, but people are still talking.

No, that’s not it. Jack is the one who’s talking. In his sleep. In _French_. Or at least Bitty assumes that it’s French. It sounds like French.

Jack is still where he was before, the book he was reading now open on his chest. Bitty is also still where he was before, curled up at the end of Jack’s bed, but the wooziness has faded and he’s not drunk enough to think that staying where he is would be a good idea. He’s not going to close his eyes again.

Bitty gets up and congratulates himself for not falling flat on his face after all. He looks down at Jack, features soft, book on his chest. Bitty carefully takes it, because sleeping like that can’t be comfortable, but then Jack jerks awake with a grunt, frowning at Bitty like he’s not sure how he got into his room, like he’s not sure why Bitty is holding up his book with two fingers, like it’s about to burst into flames. Bitty can actually pinpoint the moment he remembers.

“Bittle,” Jack says. “Finally woke up, I see.”

“Sorry,” Bitty says. “Going to my own bed now.”

Jack takes the book from him and puts it on his nightstand. “No worries, you were good company.”

“Very funny,” Bitty mutters and stalks towards his own room.

He freezes in the doorway when Jack says, “Bitty?”

That feeling of temporary cardiac arrest that comes with Jack calling him Bitty slams into him at light speed. It really shouldn’t be a _nice_ feeling. “Yeah?”

“Good night,” Jack says, and there’s that smile again. It’s soft at the edges now that Jack just woke up.

“Good night, Jack,” Bitty says and pulls the door shut as he leaves.

Across the hall, he shucks off his clothes and climbs into his own bed. There’s a stain on the ceiling and Bitty can make out the vague shape of it in the dark. He doesn’t know how it got there and he doesn’t want to find out either, but thinking about the origins of that stain seems preferable to thinking about _that smile_.

“Ugh,” Bitty huffs into the darkness of his room.

Señor Bunny can’t speak, but if he could, Bitty is sure, he would wholeheartedly agree.

 

**3.**

Bitty is going to die. And, as so often, it’s all Jack Zimmermann’s fault.

Jack is in Bitty’s room. In Madison. He flew all the way down to Georgia for the 4th of July and now he’s a few steps away from Bitty and it’s killing him. Actually, this whole thing has been killing him ever since Jack kissed him after graduation. And now he’s here. And he’s still a bit crumpled from the plane ride and he’s smirking at Bitty’s figure skating trophies and Bitty is leaning against the door because his ability to keep himself upright jumped out of the window together with what was left of his composure.

Bitty’s been stress-baking for days under the guise of making loads of pies for the 4th, since they’ll have family visiting and will be in need of baked goods to feed the masses. But it’s only the 3rd today and Jack is staying for four days and Bitty has no idea what to do with his hands.

Mainly, he just wants to put them on Jack. Jack, who is no more than a few steps away from him and smiling.

Bitty kissed him as soon as they were alone in the car, still in the airport parking lot, but it wasn’t enough and now that they’re here, in Bitty’s house, with his parents always lurking in close proximity, Bitty _can’t._ Because his parents can’t know about this. Not yet. Not in the foreseeable future. He’s not ready for that.

He swallows hard. They talked nearly every day during the last couple of weeks and there’s still so much he wants to say, but most of all he wants Jack to stop smiling like that because Bitty’s poor heart can’t take it.

“Jack,” he says, because he likes saying his name and because he feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t.

“Hm?” Jack says.

What was he saying? No idea. He has Jack’s eyes on him now and Bitty’s cheeks feel like he stayed outside in the blistering heat for a few hours too long. “You can have the bed,” Bitty finally says, because Jack is still looking at him expectantly.

Jack only hums and it sounds a bit like, _We’ll see about that_. But Jack can’t sleep on that godawful air mattress. He’s much too tall for it.

“Jack,” Bitty says again. If he’s leaning against the door no one can barge in on them, right? There’s no reason for his mama to come up here right now anyway. She’s downstairs, clattering and banging about the kitchen, taking care of dinner. Coach isn’t even home yet. If he gives Jack a quick kiss, no one but the two of them will ever know.

“Bitty,” Jack says and Bitty will never get tired of hearing him say his name like that. Jack’s eyes go all soft when he does.

And Bitty’s knees get all weak when he looks at him. Thank God for that door. “Come over here?”

It’s just a few steps and then Jack is right there and Bitty wraps his arms around him and pulls him down for another kiss. He knows that he’s supposed to stop kissing Jack at some point but the logistics of it escape him at the moment because he physically can’t let go of him. It’s doing terrible things to him, and his heart can’t really keep up with any of this, and this is so not a _quick_ kiss.

Jack’s hands slide down his sides and pull him in and he’s warm and so close and he basically has Bitty pinned against that door and that’s where Bitty’s brain just turns itself off for a second. He gasps, his fingers clenched in Jack’s shirt, because if he lets go he’s just going to slide down the door and melt into a puddle.

“Jack…” Bitty says against Jack’s lips, and there’s a plea in it, but he hasn’t quite decided if he wants him to stop or if he wants him to keep going.

Jack kisses the line of his jaw and there’s a hint of teeth there and it’s all too much and too good at the same time. He’s been thinking about this. A solid 100 percent of his sleepless nights were spent thinking about what it might feel like if Jack kissed him again, if he touched him. And now that Bitty knows, he never wants to feel any different ever again. So they’ll probably just have to stay right here until the end of time.

A car door slams shut in the driveway and Bitty’s hands firmly shove at Jack without Bitty’s approval.

Jack is panting and his cheeks are pink, his eyes wide, his hair sticking up. Bitty is pretty sure that he’s only had his hands in Jack’s hair for about two seconds, so how in the hell does he look so disheveled? It’s a good look on him, admittedly.

If Jack is confused about Bitty pushing him away without a warning, he’s hiding it well.

“Coach,” Bitty mutters by way of explanation, even though it doesn’t look like Jack needs one.

Jack nods and tugs at his shirt. Then he reaches out to tug at Bitty’s. Bitty’s face surely can’t get any redder, but it’s making a valiant effort.

“Later,” Jack says and it’s in no way helpful.

Downstairs the door opens, and Bitty can hear his mama and Coach talking in the kitchen.

Bitty sucks in a deep breath. “Let’s go downstairs… in a minute.”

“In a minute sounds good,” Jack says and sits down on Bitty’s bed.

Bitty steps up in front of him and tries to smooth down his hair but then Jack catches Bitty’s hand in his and kisses his palm and Bitty once again has to seriously consider melting into a puddle. He makes the most embarrassing noise that has ever been made in the history of the galaxy and Jack smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Bitty.

“Dicky?” his mama calls and Bitty pulls his hand away.

“We’ll be right down,” Bitty shouts. The nervous excitement from earlier has dissipated. It’s been replaced by something that feels a lot like nausea. He knows that Coach is going to like Jack. That’s not the issue here. But some irrational part of him thinks that Coach is going to take one look at them and he’ll just _know_.

Jack doesn’t touch him again. He just nods. It’s an _it’ll be fine_ if Bitty has ever seen one.

And it is fine. Of course it is.

Bitty can tell that Jack is nervous in the beginning, but then Mama gives Jack the Top 10 of Bitty’s most embarrassing childhood stories, then they have dinner and Coach asks him questions about the Falconers. Afterwards Mama gives Jack the Top 10 of Bitty’s most embarrassing baby photos and Bitty resigns himself to the fact that his face will never be a normal color again.

“Where are you going to see the fireworks tomorrow?” Mama asks over dessert. “Make sure y’all find a nice spot, you hear?”

Which is basically permission for them to watch the fireworks without Bitty’s entire extended family. “I have something in mind,” Bitty says. There are a bunch of good spots. He’ll take Jack to the one where they’re least likely to run into anyone else.

Jack’s foot brushes against his ankle under the table and Bitty nearly chokes on his pie.

They stick around downstairs to be polite and then they sit on the porch, just the two of them, while Mama and Coach watch TV. Bitty tucks his feet under Jack’s thigh, because he knows that he’ll have enough time to pull them away when he hears the door open.

It’s strange how they still find things to talk about after talking to each other virtually every day ever since Jack left Samwell – Bitty takes the chance to correct some of those stories his mama told Jack. Jack listens and his fingers wrap around Bitty’s ankle, his thumb rubbing over his skin, like he’s trying to make Bitty forget how to speak. He’s getting there.

Bitty grabs Jack’s hand. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

“Now you know how I feel when you’re wearing those shorts,” Jack says, his voice low.

“Shush you,” Bitty says and pokes at Jack’s thigh.

God, he wants to kiss him so much. But he has a bunch of neighbors to consider here. And he knows that it wouldn’t be just one little kiss. It wasn’t one little kiss earlier either. Jack’s fingers twitch against his skin and maybe he wants this just as much as Bitty does, maybe he’s thinking about kissing him right now, too.

Yep, this is definitely going to kill him.

It feels like an eternity, them sitting on the porch, until the buzz of the mosquitoes gets too loud and Bitty ushers Jack inside. They end up back in the kitchen, just to get some water, but then Jack picks up one of the photo albums that Mama unearthed earlier and Bitty sits down next to him and slowly walks him through his kindergarten years.

It’s only the sound of the TV in the next room that’s keeping Bitty from tucking his feet against Jack’s. Every now and then their hands brush or Jack nudges him or Bitty swats at him for laughing, but Bitty is still focusing on not getting too close.

Eventually, Bitty’s parents head up to bed and Bitty and Jack have made it to Bitty’s high school pictures, which are really worse than the kindergarten ones, but Jack promises that he’ll ask his mom to send him one of the most embarrassing pictures she can find so he can make up for it. Bitty still wants to kiss him. He can’t imagine a time where he doesn’t want to kiss Jack Zimmermann.

“D’you wanna head upstairs?” Bitty asks. Jack has to be tired; he spent half the day traveling.

“Sure,” Jack says and Bitty lets him have the bathroom first and quietly panics a bit in his room while he waits his turn.

They haven’t really talked about what’s going to happen once Jack gets back. There are a lot of things that Bitty _wants_ to happen, but he’s not sure if he wants them to happen in his room in Madison with his parents sleeping down the hall. Jack slips back into Bitty’s room with a sheepish smile and Bitty darts across the hall to the bathroom before Jack can say a word.

When Bitty comes back, Jack is sitting on Bitty’s bed and, oh, he already looks so sleepy, but that doesn’t stop Bitty from stealing a kiss. Or two. Jack hums happily and pulls Bitty into his lap. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Bitty replies. He brushes his fingers through Jack’s hair. “You look tired.”

“You really know how to make a guy feel special,” Jack says.

Bitty shuts him up with another kiss. Jack’s hands are on his thighs and he wants to stay right here so, so much; he wants to kiss Jack all night long. Maybe kissing him is fine. It’s not like his mama would just walk into his room without knocking first, not when they have a guest. Coach wouldn’t either. There’s no reason why either of them would show up outside his door right now. They’re both fast asleep.

Jack holds him close and it’s the best feeling in the whole wide world and then he kisses down Bitty’s neck and, okay, maybe _that_ is the best feeling in the whole wide world. Jack’s fingers slip under his shirt and wander up his spine and he’s still kissing him and all Bitty wants is to get even closer to him. Jack’s fingers skim along the waistband of his pajama pants and Bitty’s breath hitches. He shifts in Jack’s lap and Jack lets out a quiet gasp in return.

Bitty wants this so much, and he thinks, for a split-second, that maybe they can get away with it, if they’re really quiet. He’s been thinking about it so much, but when he did, he didn’t imagine he’d be terrified that they’d get caught.

He can’t do this now, not here. He doesn’t want to be _scared_. Jack’s hands are so gentle and Bitty really doesn’t want him to stop. If they were somewhere else, Bitty wouldn’t have to say, “I can’t.”

Jack freezes immediately. “Bits?” he says.

That’s also going to melt Bitty into a puddle one of these days, but first things first. “I’m sorry,” Bitty says. “I can’t do this–”

“Did I–”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bitty says. Why does he want to cry all of a sudden? He kisses Jack’s cheek, because this isn’t his fault, and Bitty needs him to understand that. “It’s just… my parents and… I can’t… not here.”

“Okay,” Jack says. “That’s okay, Bits. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Neither did you.”

Bitty lets out a puff of breath and hides his face in the crook of Jack’s neck. Jack’s fingers are in his hair now, barely moving, just _there_. “I’m gonna take you so far away from this house tomorrow,” Bitty whispers.

Jack laughs and sneaks a kiss to Bitty’s temple. “Are you going to stay up here for a bit?”

Bitty pulls back and nods. The air mattress can wait. “Just a second,” he says and turns off the lights before he climbs back into bed with Jack.

It’s much too small for both of them, so Bitty ends up curled against Jack, with his head on his shoulder, one leg hooked over Jack’s. Now, this is okay. He’ll hear the floorboards creak if anyone comes sneaking down the hall. He puts his hand on Jack’s chest and curls his fingers into his shirt.

He’d so love to fall asleep next to him right now.

“Bitty,” Jack mumbles into the quiet. “If you ever feel like things are happening too fast or if there’s anything you want to talk about… well, you can talk to me, yeah? We don’t have to rush this.”

The thing is, part of Bitty is impatient and doesn’t want to move any slower. They only have a couple of days together and then it’s back to grainy, lagging Skype calls for a while. The other part is glad that Jack just said that.

“Okay?” Jack says. His fingers are wandering up and down the nape of Bitty’s neck.

“Yeah,” Bitty says.

He closes his eyes and lets himself drift for a bit. He blinks when something really bright lights up next to his face.

“Just setting my alarm,” Jack says. Probably for _too early_ o’clock.

Bitty tuts at him because tomorrow’s a holiday, but since they’ll eat their own weight in various kinds of fried food tomorrow, Bitty can’t really blame Jack for wanting to go on an early morning run. He snuggles closer to Jack while Jack types out a text, one-handed, because the other one apparently doesn’t want to let go of Bitty.

He eventually falls asleep like that, wrapped around Jack, the sheets pooled around their feet.

 

**4.**

Bitty is still wide awake when Jack sneaks into the apartment.

He came to Providence to watch a Falconers game. The third one in a row. Jack took him along when he went out to celebrate with his team after their win last time, but they decided that it might be a little too suspicious if Bitty tagged along again today. Because of course the Falconers won and Bitty wants Jack to enjoy this and he’s new to the team and celebrating is part of the experience.

So, after the game, Bitty went back to Jack’s apartment with Jack’s spare key in his pocket and curled up in the middle of Jack’s bed, wearing one of Jack’s shirts, mostly because he can and he’s taken a liking to nicking Jack’s clothes.

Bitty loves Jack’s apartment. He loves the kitchen. But he loves it all a lot more when Jack is around as well. It’s not the first time he’s alone at Jack’s place, of course. Sometimes Jack has to run an errand, get Bitty some emergency ingredients, that sort of thing. It sounds a bit like he’s at Jack’s all the time when he really isn’t. He isn’t here often enough, but it’s not like he can pop down every week without anyone noticing and Jack has other responsibilities, too.

Anyway, Jack is back now and Bitty can tell that he is trying really hard not to wake him up while he’s tiptoeing about the apartment. He can hear the door of the fridge being opened and closed again, then a glass being set down, then silence. Some shuffling, then Bitty can make out the shape of Jack in the doorway. He stops there and lets out a quiet sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bitty says.

Jack jumps. “You’re awake.”

Bitty turns on the bedside lamp and smiles at Jack. “I sure am.”

Jack smiles back at him, clambers into bed and, still dressed, crawls over Bitty. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Bitty says again and pulls him down for a kiss. “You won.”

“We did.”

Another kiss.

“Congrats,” Bitty whispers and nips at Jack’s jaw. “Did you have fun?”

“Hm,” Jack says. “I missed you.”

It hurts a bit. Because Bitty could have been there, except that he couldn’t have. He knows why they’re not telling anyone. Jack isn’t ready for people to know and no one understands that better than Bitty, but that doesn’t mean that Bitty can’t hate that they have to do this.

“I’ll take you again next time,” Jack says. “I promise.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Jack gives him one more kiss, then he lets himself drop onto the mattress next to Bitty with a quiet _oof_.

“I put the key on the table by the door,” Bitty says.

“Huh?”

“Your spare key,” Bitty says off-handedly. He trails his fingers up Jack’s arm. “The game was great. _You_ were great. Seriously, when you–”

“Bits,” Jack interrupts. And he stops there, although he very much looks like he has something else to say.

“Yeah?” Bitty prompts.

“You could keep that key, you know? In case you ever need it.”

Jack somehow still manages to regularly give him heart palpitations. Bitty is so in love with him, honestly, he had no idea that he could feel this way about anyone. He bites his lip. “You really want me to keep it?”

“Only if you want it,” Jack says.

“Remind me to take it tomorrow,” Bitty says. As if he’d ever forget. Jack is also smiling at him like he knows exactly that Bitty wouldn’t forget to take it in a billion years.

Bitty has to kiss that smile and somehow, through some convenient shuffling and pulling, he ends up straddling Jack’s hips. Jack is still wearing too many clothes, but Bitty will worry about that after he’s done kissing him. Although he should probably take care of that before Jack falls asleep. It’s been a long day for him.

So Bitty peels him out of his pants, and the socks go as well. Bitty leans down to kiss the corner of Jack’s mouth and then Jack pulls him down and against him and Bitty is more than content to stay right there.

“Tomorrow morning,” Bitty says, “I’m going to make you the greatest breakfast of all time.”

“Sounds promising,” Jack says. And he’s smiling but there’s an edge to his voice and Bitty isn’t sure where that came from all of a sudden. He knows what Jack’s face looks like when he’s uncomfortable. He knows what his voice sounds like.

He sits up. “Jack?”

Jack sits up as well and, oh, this is bad. If this is a conversation they can’t have while they’re snuggling, Bitty is just going to be nervous about it from the start even though he has no idea what it’s about. They’ve had many serious conversations in this very bed already, but Bitty always likes them better when Jack is hugging him.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Jack says. “It’s nothing bad or anything. I just want to know what you think.”

“Yeah? About what?”

Jack doesn’t reply right away, his fingers slowly tapping out an unsteady rhythm on his thigh. “Look, I know that the way things are between us right now, well… Let’s say this isn’t ideal. But I’m not ready for people to know and I can’t promise you that it’s going to change any time soon.”

“And that’s fine, honey.”

“I know,” Jack says, and there’s that smile again and Bitty doesn’t like that it looks a bit sad now. Bitty wants to kiss him, but they’re not done talking. “I’m just thinking…” Jack gives the most minuscule of shrugs. “You don’t want to tell your parents yet either and I understand, but maybe you’d like to come to Canada with me? And meet _my_ parents?”

Bitty opens his mouth. Then he closes it again. He clears his throat. “I’ve… met your parents.”

“Bits. I want to take you home and tell them that you’re my boyfriend. Officially. That’s not the same thing as quickly saying hello.”

Bitty swallows hard. “That really isn’t the same thing.”

“I mean, they already know about you and they can keep a secret, obviously. And I can promise you that they’ll be okay with this. You. They _are_ okay with it.” Jack picks at one of the pillows as he talks. “What do you think?” he asks and he looks so nervous, bless his heart.

The grin on Bitty’s face is so broad that it’s hurting his cheeks. “Yeah, of course. I… If you’re sure.”

Jack pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m sure,” he mumbles into Bitty’s hair.

 

**5.**

Bitty would be so very grateful if Jack would just stop trying to be the death of him.

The worst thing about this, the very worst thing, is that Bitty agreed to this. He agreed to meeting Jack’s parents. And it’s not like they don’t know that he’s coming. They know it’s him. Jack has talked to them about this. This isn’t a surprise. Jack even told him once that it was his dad who nudged him in the right direction in the end.

But that doesn’t make any of this any less nerve-wracking.

It didn’t help that his flight was delayed because of the snow.

Bitty grabs his suitcase with all the determination and enthusiasm he can scrape up. He’s going the spend the next few days at the Zimmermanns’ place in Montreal before he goes back to the Haus. And it’ll be fine. Just fine. It’s snowing and everything is wonderful and he’s going to meet his boyfriend’s parents, officially, and it’s not a big deal.

Explaining all of this to Mama Bittle was a bit of a challenge. She got a little overexcited. In the end, Bitty simply told her that the Zimmermanns were inviting him up to Canada for a couple of days since the Bittles invited Jack for the 4th of July. He’s still not sure if she even heard any of it, because, “Dicky, I can’t believe you’re going to stay at Bad Bob’s house!”

And that was that.

Bitty slowly wanders towards the arrivals area. Jack sent him a text this morning: _I’m picking you up at the airport later. Just me :-)_

So at least Bitty is getting a short break from all the panicking.

The problem is, Jack’s parents were so happy for him when he told them about Bitty, but what if they suddenly decide that he’s not good enough for Jack? What if all of this turns into a ginormous disaster? What if– His train of thought screeches to a halt when he spots Jack.

He’s all bundled up and his smile is so wide and all of Bitty’s nervousness falls away to make room for the disappointment he feels because he can’t tackle Jack and give him the most thorough kiss of his lifetime.

“Hey, Bits,” Jack says. He gives him a hug that’s about five minutes too short for Bitty’s liking.

“Hi,” Bitty says and splutters when Jack grabs his suitcase.

Jack purses his lips at him. “You’re not wearing a hat.” He pulls his own off his head and hands it to Bitty. “You’re going to want that the second we get outside.” His accent is a lot stronger than it usually is and Bitty teased him about it whenever they had time for a quick Skype call. Not that Bitty’s own accent sounds any better after spending Christmas in Georgia.

Jack leads him to a car that most likely belongs to his parents. As soon as they’re inside Bitty gets a kiss that reminds him of the time he picked up Jack at the airport only a few months ago, only this time it’s freezing and the tip of Jack’s nose is cold. Everything is cold. Jack takes Bitty’s hands in his and kisses his frozen fingertips.

“Let’s get you home,” Jack says.

Bitty only nods, because with all the kissing he’s completely forgotten about why he’s here.

Jack shoots him a sidelong glance. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit,” Bitty says and that’s the understatement of the century.

“Me too,” Jack says. “But they’re really excited that you agreed to come. They’ve been making a fuss all day. I guess they’re nervous, too.”

“Well, at least we’re all feeling the same way about this, right?”

“I’ll hold your hand,” Jack says and turns the key in the ignition. They’re really going now. “Or at least I always feel better when you hold mine.”

And that was totally an another attempt to give Bitty a heart attack right there. He should be used to it by now.

Bitty puts his hand on Jack’s thigh, hums along to the radio and looks out the window as Jack takes him back to his parents’ place. And what a place it is. It’s lovely and there are twinkling lights and Jack’s mom Alicia is waiting for them by the door with the biggest smile on her face. She ushers them inside and takes their jackets and pulls Bitty into a tight hug to say hello.

Jack mutters something in French and his mom laughs and says, “Eric, we’re so glad to have you here.”

He gets a pat on the back from Bad Bob while Alicia chatters about the cookies Jack brought home with him before Christmas and about how great they were and two seconds later they’re talking about pie. Bitty feels so at home here already. He feels even more at home when Alicia tells him that he’s welcome to use the oven.

Jack is grinning, properly grinning, and he takes Bitty’s hand and pulls him towards the stairs. “I’ll whisk him away for a couple of minutes if you don’t mind.”

They’re holding hands and Jack’s parents are both smiling, like they’ve never been happier in their entire life. Bitty isn’t sure if _he_ has ever been happier in his entire life.

“I told you they were really excited,” Jack mumbles to Bitty as they make their way up the stairs. “I mean, I’ve never really introduced anyone to them, not like this. Anyway…” He pushes at a door and nudges Bitty into his room.

It’s sparsely decorated; Jack has most of his things in Providence, but there’s traces of Christmas presents and a couple of books and a family photo on the shelf. Next to it is a picture of the Samwell hockey team from Bitty’s freshman year.

“No air mattress,” Bitty says.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind sharing.” Jack’s arm snakes around Bitty’s waist. “It’s big enough for both of us.” He kisses Bitty’s cheek. “That okay?”

“Jack,” Bitty says.

“What?”

“The door’s open,” Bitty whispers.

“Bits,” Jack whispers back, “it’s okay. I swear.”

“Okay,” Bitty says and lets Jack pull him into a kiss. His suitcase ends up by the door and Bitty and Jack end up on the bed, limbs tangled, Jack’s hands wrapped around Bitty’s.

“Still cold,” Jack says.

“It’s not my fault that you live in the ice capital of the world,” Bitty grumbles, but the grumbling is half-hearted and he gets a few kisses out of it.

“So,” Jack says and cups Bitty’s face, thumb trailer over his cheek. Bitty has no idea how his hands are so warm. “My parents are insisting they cook dinner tonight, and I thought maybe I could show you around tomorrow? Unless you want to go somewhere today?”

“I’m good,” Bitty says. The light is already fading outside Jack’s window and Bitty will have to get out the really warm sweaters tomorrow, but for now he’d really rather stay inside. Cuddled up to Jack. Who can’t seem to keep his hands off Bitty. Not that Bitty’s complaining, but the door is still open and Jack seems to notice his preoccupation, because he gives Bitty one more kiss and then he sits up.

“It’s nice to have you here,” Jack says.

“Just nice?” Bitty asks and plants a kiss on the back of Jack’s neck.

Bitty ends up nearly getting shoved off Jack’s bed and only barely catches himself with a yelp. “Careful there,” Jack says, his expression perfectly innocent.

Bitty retaliates with a pillow. Jack grabs the another one with determination in his eyes and whacks it over Bitty’s head.

“When you boys are done trashing Jack’s room…” Alicia calls from downstairs a few minutes later when they’ve successfully rid Jack’s bed of all pillows and are sitting on the floor, giggling. “I’m making hot chocolate in case you want any.”

They make their way back downstairs, still half-heartedly shoving at each other, and then Jack shows him around. He also takes a picture of Bitty and his dad – “You can send that one to your mom” – and they have hot chocolate together in the living room and Alicia asks if Bitty had a nice Christmas and it’s neither scary nor awkward and just so much _easier_ than Bitty imagined this would be.

It’s because he doesn’t have to pay attention to what he’s doing. It doesn’t matter if he’s sitting too close to Jack, or if he touches Jack too much and lets his hand linger on his arm for a little longer than usual, or if their feet are tucked together under the table during dinner.

Bitty and Jack volunteer to take care of the dishes afterwards, once Bitty is done thanking Bob and Alicia for making dinner and Jack is done smirking at him for it.

When they’re alone in the kitchen and Jack is sorting dishes into the dishwasher, refusing to let Bitty help after all, Jack asks, “How was Georgia?”

“Jack, we talked every day,” Bitty says. “But if you must know… I missed you quite a bit.”

“I missed you, too,” Jack says.

“I missed you more.”

Jack laughs and abandons the last two plates in favor of wrapping his arms around Bitty from behind, his face buried in Bitty’s hair. Which is when Jack’s dad appears outside the door, a mug in hand, probably to get himself some more tea or coffee. He stops, still out in the hallway, and Bitty hopes to God that this is okay, because it’s too late to push Jack away now.

Jack’s dad only nods, and smiles, and wanders off before Jack even notices that he was there.

“Love you,” Jack mumbles into Bitty’s hair. And, sure, it’s freezing cold outside, but that’s not going to stop Bitty from melting into a puddle of happiness.

“Love you, too.”

Jack nudges his side. “Love you more.”

“Not everything’s a competition, Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says.

“I’m not the one who turned this into a competition, Bittle. You’re the one who said you missed me _more_ , which I’m not sure was completely accurate.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Bitty turns around in Jack’s arms and, well, if someone had told him this morning that he’d be making out with Jack in his parents’ kitchen twelve hours later, he would have laughed at them, and maybe he would have also cried a little because he was so nervous. 

They do eventually manage to clean up the rest of the kitchen and Jack pulls him back upstairs, telling his parents that Bitty had a long day and needs some rest.

When they curl up in bed, after Jack sneaks into the shower with Bitty, getting up at four in the morning finally catches up with Bitty. Even though he spent hours waiting for his delayed flight and didn’t actually do much, he couldn’t keep his eyes shut for longer than ten seconds on the plane. He tucks his head under Jack’s chin and hopes that Jack won’t drag him out into the snow for a morning run at the crack of dawn.

He still can’t believe that it was so easy. That he’s tucked into bed with Jack and that his parents are downstairs and they _know_ and they love Jack so much and Bitty never for a second felt like he wasn’t welcome here. He wishes he could take Jack to Georgia like this, and hold his hand, and kiss him, and not feel guilty about it. He wishes he could tell his mama and Coach, he wishes they’d just accept it and hug Jack like Alicia hugged him earlier.

He’s been thinking about it all day, ever since he got here. He’s been thinking about how easy it could be. Every single day, just like this one. No more hiding. But before Jack can tell the whole world about this, and that’s still a long way away, Bitty has to tell his parents. He has no idea why it seems so impossibly hard to him. It’s just one very simple sentence. _Jack is my boyfriend_. He knows that it’ll be the hardest thing he’s ever said in his entire life.

Bitty sucks in a deep breath.

“Bitty?”

He shifts closer to Jack. He’s so warm and Bitty slips his hand under Jack’s shirt, fingers trailing up and down his spine, and Bitty just holds on to him, because Jack loves him and he isn’t going anywhere.

“At least your hands aren’t cold anymore.”

Bitty sighs. He already knows that he’s going to sleep so well tonight and he also knows that he’s going to be a mess when he has to go back to the Haus on his own. Maybe he can talk Jack into staying for a bit. To catch up with everyone. And to make sure Bitty doesn’t freeze to death at night. 

“Everything okay?” Jack asks.

“Yeah,” Bitty says and he sounds so choked up that it would be a minor miracle if he was fooling anyone.

“Bits, talk to me.”

“I’m going to tell my parents,” Bitty says. And, well, Jack already knew that. Of course he’s going to tell his parents at some point, so he adds, “Soon. I’ll tell them soon.”

Jack lets out a puff of breath. “Let me know if you want me to be there for it, okay?”

“I always want you there,” Bitty says and tilts his head so he can give Jack a kiss.

 

**(+1)**

“What a mess,” Bitty says.

Jack only huffs in reply. He’s sitting at Bitty’s feet and he’s sweaty and he’s a mess, too, just like their apartment. _Their apartment_. Bitty looks around for the billionth time because he still can’t believe that this place is actually _theirs_.

They’re moving in together. Well. Technically, they already have, even though their lives are mostly bags and boxes and disassembled furniture right now. There are so many boxes. Boxes from Jack’s apartment, boxes with the things Bitty brought with him from the Haus. Bags with new things, bags with old things, bags with things their friends gave to them.

Once they’ve taken care of the mess, they’re going to have a proper housewarming party. And Bitty’s going to bake a pie for every single one of their friends to say thank you for helping them out today. They’re all gone now and have left Bitty and Jack with their bags and boxes and disassembled furniture. Shitty was going to stay to put together a bunch of shelves, but Jack only hugged him and told Lardo to take him home.

They have another busy day ahead of them tomorrow; those boxes won’t unpack themselves. Bitty wouldn’t have minded just moving into Jack’s old apartment, but they have more room here, and while the kitchen at Jack’s old place was nothing short of amazing, this one is, well, on a whole other level. It’s all of Bitty’s wildest dreams in one place. Actually, it’s much better than a dream.

Jack’s fingers wrap around his ankle. “What’s the view like from up there?”

Bitty smiles down at him. “Pretty good.” He joins Jack on the floor and leans against him. “I feel like we’ve been carrying boxes for a week, not for a day.”

“Yeah, feels like it,” Jack says. “I can’t wait to go to bed.”

“Yeah?” Bitty asks and tugs at Jack’s shorts, his fingers creeping under the hem.

Jack smirks. “Yeah.”

“Well, honey, I hate to tell you this, but we don’t have a bed right now.”

“Oh,” Jack says and then he starts laughing, because their bed is still in bits and pieces on their bedroom floor and neither of them has enough energy to put it back together tonight. Jack lies down on the hardwood floor with a sigh. “Guess the floor will have to do.”

Bitty lies back as well, his head pillowed on Jack’s arm. It’s getting dark. At least they have lamps. “I mean,” Bitty says, “the mattress is in the bedroom. I just don’t know where the sheets are.”

“In the box that says _bedroom_.”

“Well, Mr. Smartypants, if you’re the expert here, why don’t you go and look for them?”

“I think I need a break from the boxes first.”

“Understandable,” Bitty says. He rolls over with a groan. “But we are definitely not sleeping on the floor.”

“Couch?”

“Couch sounds good.”

They both glance in the vague direction of their couch, somewhat obscured by the wall of boxes. They’ll make it there eventually. And they’ll find a couple of blankets and pillows somewhere. Probably in the box that says _living room_.

Bitty closes his eyes. There’s a lot of happiness buried under all the exhaustion. “This is gonna be great,” he says and absent-mindedly cards his fingers through Jack’s hair. There’s dirt in it and, for some reason, sawdust.

“I just wish all those boxes were already taken care of.”

“Look, sweetheart, we still have a week to take care of this mess,” Bitty says. “That’s more than enough time.”

A week from now, Jack’s parents will be here. Bitty wants the boxes gone by then. He wants the kitchen to be perfect by then as well. To be honest, he wants the kitchen to be perfect and done by tomorrow noon.

Anyway. Bitty’s own parents came up for graduation a few weeks ago, which was when Bitty told them that he’d be moving in with Jack. Which was, uh, _a while_ after he and Jack had decided that they’d find themselves a new place.

Things are still a bit awkward. Coach hasn’t quite come to terms with Bitty having a _boyfriend_ , even though it’s been a year since Bitty told them, but at least his eyes don’t threaten to fall out of his head anymore when he sees that Jack has his arm around Bitty. Baby steps.

In any case, Bitty is just glad that telling them about him and Jack didn’t turn into the catastrophe he imagined during the countless sleepless nights leading up to their trip to Madison last summer. And then Bitty spent Christmas with Jack and when he told his mama, she called him to tell him that they’d always love him no matter what because she was scared that he didn’t want to come home anymore and Bitty spent the rest of the day crying onto Señor Bunny.

And now he lives with Jack. And Jack has plans. He talks to George a lot. Once the kitchen is up and running, Bitty’s going to bake her a pie as well.

“What are you thinking about?” Jack asks.

“Pie,” Bitty replies without missing a beat.

“So I gather we’re taking care of the kitchen first thing tomorrow morning?”

“I’m so glad you have your priorities in order.”

Jack grins and pulls him close.

They have this and no one’s taking it away from them. And whatever comes next, whatever Jack has been talking to George about, will be just another a step.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this was my first fic for this fandom and I'm super nervous about it.
> 
> Anyway, kudos and comments are appreciated :)


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